Alone
by YiffyWolfman
Summary: Adam awakens in an abandoned building, having been saved from Jigsaws first trap. He must now face his inner demons and fight through yet another trap. But he may not be as alone as he thinks in his survival.
1. Chapter 1

**Saw- Alone**

**Disclaimer**- Saw, and all affiliated characters are property of their prospective owners. This is a work of fiction and is written simply for entertainment, not profit.

**Warnings: **This will be updated in each chapter regarding new developments. Just some bad language in this one, but since it is a Saw fanfiction... get over it.

This is NOT a Chainshipping Adam/Lawrence fic, but as things move along, developing friendships may imply something else.

**Chapter One- Would I Lie?**

_'How did you get yourself into this, Adam?'_

He asked himself this question over and over again, sitting in the dark with his own loneliness and self-depreciation. He knew the answer of course, but asking himself this, he retold himself the story in hopes that it was just that; a story. A scary story one man might tell his child before bed to deter straying from the path of the decent and reasonable.

Adam was cold. And wet. And terribly alone. The man known as Lawrence abandoned him here in this deathtrap of his own making. That didn't bother him as much as he thought. Lawrence had to leave, he had no choice. But that didn't stop Adam from hugging himself into his knees, trying to make himself feel less betrayed.

That was what hurt the most. Facing up to the fact that he had all his hopes and trust placed into the hands of some man who most likely had no intention of coming back to save him.

_"Would I lie to you?"_

He heard his voice echo in his head. And now he saw red, standing to his feet and screaming out with his horse voice in rage, kicking wildly at the iron clasp binding his ankle to a rather old, but strangely solid pipe. The chain rattled against the pipe. His throat ached, his ankle and shoulder bled. Then he gave up. Dropping to sitting with his free leg outstretched into the darkness of the bathroom. He hid his face in his hands, trying not to cry.

_'Fuck. How should I know Lawrence. I only knew you a day.'_

'How much time has passed?', he wondered. 'An hour? No, that's obviously not right. Think Adam, think.'

As Adam tried his best to keep from breaking down and crying again, he tried to keep his mind of his emotions; while asking himself how much time had passed was really not something he'd want to know, it did help in stopping the salty tears rolling down his face in streams. He hated the idea of that. He wanted to be strong, there was no way he was going to die crying in a foetal position.

'A day? Two? Yeah. That sounds about right. How much longer does it take to die of starvation? Someone must know. Fucking shame that I'll never get to ask.'

Energy had slowly begun to leave him. And so with time, had the fight also.

Adam had now lost all sense of time, laying on his back in filth. He had begun to wonder if this is what it felt like to be terminally ill, with cancer, like one of Lawrences patients. Aware of the inevitable death, but unable to stop it, like a train on loose rails. Each passing hour feeling like an eternity. He had realised at this point that he was in agony, in the early stages of starvation, not to mention mental breakdowns and a constant cloud of depression hovering over him. Adam would be welcoming death now. Death would be a mercy. Then again, maybe he didn't deserve mercy. Maybe this was that psychos plan after all. To have him sit here and think about what he'd done like a child being punished for something they didn't know was a wrongdoing.

He felt blind as all he had seen for days was pitch black. Was that_ thing_, that _man_, that _monster_ still in the room, laughing, taunting? Adam had thought that he had begun to hear voices, maybe this was the serial killer know to the media as 'Jigsaw', getting off watching poor panicky Adam slowly lose his mind.

That's just how he felt. He was dying. This had been accepted the moment the dread filled his veins upon hearing that big metal door close shut behind that sociopath. A dull blackening acceptence drained the fight and anger out of him. A shadow, that's how he felt. Like a presence not acknowledged, slowly fading to invisibility.

_'_Story of my life.' Adam said out loud, finding little comfort in speaking to the shadows. Less alone. 'The Life of Adam Faulkner' He laughed, bitterly. 'Y'know... that's funny... as if I had one.' Acceptence had breached him, and all he felt now was sadness and self-sorrow at his simple little life and how little it meant now. He would have cried if he wasn't badly dehydrated. So, he hid his emotions like someone was watching. 'I'd kill for a cigarette right about now...'

And with those last words, Adams body gave up, the energy lost with those words as he surrendered to exhaustion and unconsciousness. _'Yes. Lawrence... you lied.'_

**Authors Notes**: As this is the introductory chapter, not much is happening. But don't worry Adam fans! He's not going to die. Reviews are obviously welcome as are concerns/criticisms, spelling/grammar corrections etc. (I will read all and take them to heart), but like I said, this is just the first chapter and I wanted it simple and short. Not much more to say about a man dying alone in a room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Saw- Alone**

**Disclaimer**- Saw, and all affiliated characters are property of their prospective owners. This is a work of fiction and is written simply for entertainment, not profit.

**Warnings: **This will be updated in each chapter regarding new developments. Just some bad language in this one, but since it is a Saw fanfiction... get over it.

**Chapter Two- Blue-Eyed Devil**

Alison Gordon didn't know her husband any more. Things had changed. Obviously she didn't know everything about him, but being married to him, she had picked up a trick or two on how to read him. And ever since the incident, he had not being the same. Cold. No. Colder, harsher, crueler. Those warm blue eyes frosted over with a sinister glaze. It wasn't just his eyes either, whenever he limped into the room, silent and focused, she would physically _shiver_. She had become affraid of him.

'Larry... I'm going to bed.' She said, with the lightest of knocks on the polished wood of the spare bedroom door, which had become his office.

Nothing. He said nothing. Just remained hunched over his desk, back to her and shifting papers around. Had he heard her? _'He heard me alright.' _Alison wasn't going to ask again. She had tried in vain, the last few days to get into his head. Inside the brain. But was sure that no matter the prodding, she wouldn't like what she saw.

Lawrence stood. Turning to her. She cringed under his icy stare. He walked up to her. No. He walked up to the door, looking straight through her as if she didn't exist, and closing the door in her face as he went back to his work.

Alison let out a sigh of relief once she was sure he was out of earshot. Her palms were sweating a cold sweat which she wiped on the thighs of her jeans. She walked slowly down the carpetted hallway to the bedroom they once shared, glancing sideways into the empty room that was once their daughters' room. Diana had been sent to live with her grandmother in Florida. She had been terrified here. Couldn't sleep. Once, Lawrence and Alison had been called into school to pick her up because she didn't want to go home. She left, literally kicking and screaming. It killed Alison to see her daughter so affraid. Every day Diana went home with other parents and had sleepovers there in order to keep the nightmares at bay.

Eventually, Alison couldn't take much more. No child should be this affraid of her own home. One night she had gently suggested to her that she may want to live with grandma in sunny Florida, to which was met by Diana's eager hugging of relief.

She was suprised by Lawrences reaction. To say he was upset was an understatement. He pushed her against a wall and breathed so harshly into her face, she could have sworn a wild boar had her pinned.

A couple of days later. Alisons mother and father came with open arms to pick up their lovely grand-daughter. Lawrence wasn't there, he was at work. As usual.

After that, the coldness came. With Diana not there for him to smother his affections on, he rarely ever came home. And this was barely a month after returning from near-death at the hands of a psycho killer. She wanted to understand. She gave him time to come around. But he never did. Would he forgive her for sending his only child away? Never.

But she knew he wasn't the man she fell in love with. Forgiving his cheating and his lying and welcoming him home even after she and Diana were dragged into the psychos game just for a killers amusement. She had held a gun at a mans head, and surely, should her daughter come under threat again then she wouldn't hesitate this time to pull the trigger. And that's exactly what she did. She aimed the gun and pulled the trigger on the evil in the shadows and sent her away to somewhere... someone not a target to mad games.

The bedroom she entered had become filled with shadows now. Shadows that couldn't be fought. Her husband had changed and become some sort of blue-eyes devil.

He hadn't slept in the same bed as her in a while either. Not that she was complaining. She couldn't stay here with him. This had already been decided. Her bags were packed and shoved into the corner of the room ready for the moment Lawrence left for work in morning. Alison knew he wouldn't bother coming into her room, and had packed her things during the day. She planned to go join the rest of her family in Florida.

Now all that she could hope for was that he wouldn't come after her. She figured he didn't care enough about her to go chasing her. And she would be right.

Alison didn't sleep that night. She just sort of lay in bed, listening to whatever her husband was doing as he shifted about the house. She didn't want to think about it. And not giving a look back, she'd be gone once the morning came. And Alison was right. Lawrence was up to something, and she indeed would not like it if she ever found out.

Dr. Gordon recieved a package the next day. And the door to his office was tightly shut. The blinds closed and every other precaution taken to ensure security and secrecy. He sat at his desk, looking at the brown envelope for a while. This could be none other than instructions. He didn't have to open it to see that.

And these weren't the usual instructions. Not the kind of instructions normal men would read, he thought. But like a good, obedient little servant who's master holds the leash so tight, it cut off his free will; he begun to open to ever so skillfully, slice open the brown paper with his desk knife. He felt nothing. His purpose had been set by someone else and he was ready to oblige his knew orders.

As he pulled out a photograph, he recognised the man in the image. But it was like a distant memory. He stroked his fingers over the face as if touching a mirror. For the photograph was a picture of himself. An old picture for sure, but it was definately him. He wracked his brains trying to remember when this picture was taken, but he couldn't. But this wasn't important.

Dr. Gordon turned the picture over to the white backing and saw a single word written on the back in thick, black marker pen. _"ADAM..."._

'Adam? What?' Confusion gave way to a brash realisation. He let the picture drop from his fingers on to the desk. 'This picture... was taken by _him_.'

His hands found themselves in his blonde hair now. He remembered. Remembered the name. The young man. Boy, really. What he did, and how this photograph came to be. And the events that suceeded it. And still, he felt... nothing.

Hours later, was in surgery, slicing into a womans stomach with his scalpel. The relief staff and nurses standing watching with interest as he taught them all he knew about biology as he cut out the cancerous growth within the patients body. He had one of the hardest jobs in the world, dealing with death on a daily basis changes a man.

Gordons' mind was on nothing else but his current task. That's what made him the best out there. Sure, it cost him alot, but weaker souls would have crumbled and broken down, but not him, oh no. After surgery, Lawrences mind was drawn back to the cryptic message he had recieved. This wasn't Jigsaws usual method of contact.

'What am I expected to do with this?' He laughed in scorn as he threw the picture to the floor and begun his paperwork. But the image wouldn't go away. His own old eyes staring back at him accusingly from the floor. Shaking his head he looked back to his desk. But still, the photograph, the memory of the past, of the former Lawerence Gordon kept bombarding his brain.

'Oh you're a persistent one aren't you?' He said, picking up the photograph. 'Fine. I'll play your fucking games.' He had an expression on his face, a grimace of disgust as he kept seeing himself chained to the pipe, seeing the weakness inside himself. He hated it. Didn't want to see the past Lawrences warm blue eyes, wanted them cold again. Clean, clinical and cold.

There were no hesitations in returning to that place. The place where he found himself awakened anew. The rust stinged his nostrils, but yet he walked strong, confident down the empty hallways, flashlight in hand. He was heading to the bathroom where he left Adam Faulkner for dead. And that didn't bother him. He was more so annoyed at this cryptic puzzle Jigsaw had left him. He usually was so upfront with his assigned tasks, which is the way he liked it.

Yanking open the door, the smell hit him, but he didn't react. The motionless pig-mask on his face would reflect his emotions perfectly. He shined the beam of light through the dark, cutting the heavy atmosphere just barely. He looked around the room. At the broken mirror. The cracked tiles. The blood-stained floor. The pipe. His own pipe. And... oh god, the foot. The severed body part. The cancer that represented his former life he cut off himself.

'Freedom from that life... it was worth it.' he said in his mind as he continued to examine the room. Empty. It was empty. Nothing else. 'This is it? This is what you wanted to show me?' Then it dawned on him. The room shouldn't have been empty. 'Where is that pathetic excuse for a human being?' There was no body. No bones.

Sweat ran down his neck under the pig-mask and through his robes. If he was alive. He must know what was doing now.

Approaching the chains where his former ally in survival had been bound, he remembered how he begged like a dog for him to not leave him alone here. But he did. And is just fine with that fact.

Lawrence would have mourned. Cried even. But he wasn't Lawrence any more. He stopped living that lie the moment Jigsaw saved his life, attaching an artificial foot to the bottom of his leg. But his life wasn't just saved, it was killed and resurrected, like a black phoenix rising from the ashes came forth .

And after that he had a new purpose in life, to follow as his masters disciple, to show others the error of their ways and give them a new life. If they failed their tests. They simply weren't deserving of his attention or a new life. And that's what Adam Faulkner is.

Gordon walked over to the bathtub, noticing another photograph layed flat facing up from where Adam had once been, blood-smeared. This photograph, another clue. Though this one was different. It was a new picture, as if freshly developed, shiney and smooth. He reached down and picked it up.

It was a photograph of a newspaper clipping. In the picture was a newspaper headline _"Death-trap hospital to face demolition."_

He remembered seeing this once. An old hospital somewhere at the outskirts of the city. So old, the walls were crumbling. Patients had not visited the place in decades and the administrator had gone mad, seeing ghosts in the halls, he killed himself with a scalpel, slicing all visible veins until he bled to death, crawling.

Gordon smirked. 'Weak fool'. He turned it over and read the words;_ '...KILL HIM.' _

Following the clues, Gordon quickly deduced, Adam was at the hospital, he knew too much and must be exterminated. He saw this as his new instruction and left the place of haunted memories behind to kill Adam Faulker, thus ending all loose ends of Lawrence and extinguishing the memories once and for all. To forever be... .

**Authors Notes**: The first part of this is about Alison Gordon, as I figured keeping Lawrence and his activities a bit of a mystery for now but told through the eyes of someone who sees him. Then the next part is telling everything before we get to the action!


	3. Chapter 3

**Saw- Alone**

**Disclaimer**- Saw, and all affiliated characters are property of their prospective owners. This is a work of fiction and is written simply for entertainment, not profit.

**Warnings: **This will be updated in each chapter regarding new developments. Just some bad language in this one yet again, but since it is a Saw fanfiction... get over it.

**Chapter Three- Angel Of Memory**

Fading consciousness.

_Is this real?_

Men in black robes surround him. Glimmering silver in their hands. He's scared. But smiles. The end has come and he embraces it. Like a mother embracing a newborn, he feels he has earned his rest finally. He feels no pain as they cut into him with blurred precision. Pipes of some kind are stuck into him. Like the one he was chained too, forever linked as umbilical cord giving him sustenance.

_Why don't they kill me?_

Adam blinked, and they were gone. These Angels of life and death. He saw something else now. A memory? He couldn't tell. His eyes were so blurry. He was in their kitchen, he was a boy again, and a man at the same time.

'Mom? Dad?'

'That's right Adam.' Adams mother turned to face him, but his father remained still, his back to him.

'What's with him?' He asked, being a man again, nodding in his fathers direction.

'Your father... he doesn't want to see you. After what... you did.' She said, her eyes cast downwards. He shrank under her gaze, as he always had when he knew he was guilty.

'It wasn't my fault.' He said, shifting from foot to foot, casting his eyes down at the tiled kitchen floor. He was a child again, helpless, vulnerable.

'Adam. We love you no matter what. But what you did was wrong. Can't you see that?' She pointed her accusing finger at the object in question.

'I guess.' He replied, unsurely.

Then he faded out again, away from the painful memory before he had chance to fully remember it. He wasn't sure he was thankful of that just yet.

_Help... help... help..._

He was on a hospital gurney now, being dragged through a crumbling hallway towards a bright white light. It was in his eyes, he couldn't see the faces of the men dragging him into the light up ahead. With a sudden flash, he was on the floor, laying down in complete blackness, crows pecked at him. He helplessly watched the big black birds pick and pull his flesh from his body. They ate his insides greedily as if pigs. He saw his own intestines ripped from his open stomach and wrap around his neck. He couldn't stop it. He watched, helpless as a bird, feathers bloody, emerged from his chest cavity with his heart in it's gory beak.

'He passed out again.' He hears an unknown voice say.

His eyes open again, clearer than before, but still blurry. He's in the bathroom of his first apartment, smoking a cigarette. It tastes real. If this was just another memory he would be happy to die right here. But no. This never happened. Adam lived alone and never smoked in the bathroom before in his life. He stood, dressed in boxers and white t-shirt and opened the door, walking into the living area.

'Adam?' It was Lawrence. He was standing just outside the bathroom, cane in hand, looking at him. Aggitated. Adam was stunned, the cigarette fell from his lips, creating an ash pile on the carpet.

'W-What?' Adam stuttered, feeling a sting of a fantasy. A life he secretly wished he had if he hadn't died in Jigsaws trap. Lawrence strode up to him, picking up the cigarette and sighing at the stain.

'Damnit Adam... I asked you to quit.' He said in a voice that could resemble husky breathing. Lawrence got to his knees and begun scrubbing the floor. 'Do you ever keep your word?' Awkwardness overcome Adam and he could do nothing but stand there staring as Lawrence finished cleaning and took his long coat off and put it on a hook. As he turned back, ready to scald Adam some more, his expression changed seeing Adam looking so helpless, his lips curved to a forgiving smile. 'Adam...' he said in a quieter voice, walking up and putting a firm yet gentle hand on Adams shaking shoulder. 'I know... you're trying.' Lawrence removed his warm hand and wet over to throw the cigarette butt in the garbage. Adam found himself missing the comforting touch greatly.

'I-I'm sorry.' He finally spoke up, stuttering again as he couldn't quite believe this oh so good version of his life. 'I... I guess I forgot or something.' He shrugged, trying to play along with this fantasy as long as he could before it would end as he was so sure it would.

'I'm not suprised. You always have so much on your mind.' Lawrence said with a soft sarcastic edge to his tone. But he didn't look angry, he just motioned Adam to come over to him, and like a lovesick teenager he walked over and embraced this memory tightly, both arms around as far as he could.

He tried to break free, but Lawrence was holding him tightly, unable to break free. Eventually, he just melted into him and everything went black once more. Imagination returning to reality.

He was in a hospital bed. Not a clean one either. Men were standing over him. They had the heads of pigs and wearing robes. They were tending to him, like nurses would, applying bandages to his shoulder and ankle, checking his IV. It was such a strange sight that was abruptly cut short by one of the pig-faced men closing in on him with a rather long syringe. It was then, that Adam realised;

'This is no dream... this... this is really happening... No... no... help... Get-get off! Get the fuck off! Help! Help!'

Adams cries though, were in vain. He was in the middle of no-where and, as the needle plunged into his vein. One thought occurred throughout his conscious mind.

_Alive... I'm not fucking dead?_

Waking up was hard. Especially after he'd been out for how long? Adam didn't know. But first of all, his eyes. They reacted to the new knowledge that he was in fact, not dead. He was alive, and some freaks were doing some weird experiments on him.

Opening his eyes was a severre chore. They had been closed for weeks after all. All he could hope to do was will his body awake after so long asleep. It was hard, very hard. And frustrating. He was alive and he could do something finally, but still he remains useless! Rage boiled in him, just filled all his senses. Feeling freedom close at hand but just couldn't reach the door.

'Fuck you...' Were his first words. They came as a suprise, he felt like he'd almost had a heart attack from the sheer shock of hearing his own raspy voice in god knows how many ours of unbearable silence. He made the mistake of immediately trying to speak out again, which came out as nothing but a wheeze of air.

_Come on asshole... talk... move... just fucking do something!_ He found his brain telling his body. He couldn't oblige his own wishes right away. So he lay there and just began working his mind. Starting at the very beginning. _Alright Adam... Adam... Stanh... no, Faulkner... Adam Faulkner. Right. Right. That's your name. Good. Good start Adam. What else? Twenty-seven? No... Twenty...nine. Twenty-nine years old... last time I checked. That's right. Family? Mom... Err... and Dad... their names? Fuck. _Adam was stuck. He couldn't remember his parents' names, just their faces. _Fine, we'll come back to that one... girlfriend? No. Boyfriend? Fuck no. So... single? Yeah, I'd say that about says it all..._

As Adam went through these thoughts and questions of his own life, he hadn't realised his fingers and toes had gained a life of their own, twitching and clenching randomly. He was on the road to successful self-administered pysical therapy. If he knew this, he'd have laughed.

'Job? Something... ohh, something to do with, with... err.' Biting his lip, Adam opened his eyes, now fully and blinked without realising it. Something else earned his attention. 'Oh, so now you can speak? Fucking great.' He said, his voice barely above a strained whisper.

'Fuck... you.' He laughed, gratefully, a tear marking a clean line down his stubble infested cheek. 'Fuck you.' He had begun chuckling now, a strained, painful sound going through his throat, but christ was he gratefull just to be able to say _fuck you _one more time.

After he had gained mobility of his eyes and neck, he could finally turn his head to see the grim scenery he was in. _A hospital? Typical. I must check to see if someone hasn't stolen my damn kidneys yet. _He joked, realising that he might actually be able to get up and leave here once he moved his ass. Another glance around told him, this was no ordinary hospital. It was far from clean and orderly. Dust and rust coated practically everything. There was a window at least, but broken, obviously, boarded up, allowing just a streak of sunlight into the room, shining against the glimmering silver medical equipment.

'Shit.' _Must get out of here now_. Adam worked overtime.

A few hours later, daylight had begun to vanish. And as such, Adam had begun to panic._ It'll be pitch black in this rusted hellhole... can't imagine they paid their electric bills. _By now, both of Adams arms and legs were working, and he had managed to sit himself up. He used his hands, pulling and pushing his whole body back and forth, rocking the bed. His muscles had built up again and his legs were performing similar exercises, wedging his feet into the bars at the foot of the bed and pushing against them.

It really was getting dark now. Bad memories resurfaced, and desperation set in. Soon enough, he'd fallen off the bed on his stomach, knocking over a tray of medical equipment in the process. He was wearing nothing but a soiled hospital gown which was now coated in all the brick dust and metal rust from the floor. The smells entered his senses and he couldn't bite back the gush of vomit that spilled forth into a sickly brown/yellow puddle at his face.

Gasping for breath, Adam turned himself around on his elbows to face the door. He panted heavily, trying not to breath in the toxic rust air and speedily headed to the door, to which he realised he'd need to get up to reach the handle.

'Come on... come on...' He breathed, psyching himself up with a growl he forced himself with an intense effort to climb to his knees, using the metal door itself as a hoist to pull himself up.

Adam was practically in tears, the effort was too much. Exhausting him with crippling fatigue. But he did reach the handle, and with every ounce of effort to pass his physical limitations, turned the handle and braced himself against it as he yanked his whole body backwards trying to pull the door open.

'Come on you bastard... open!' He failed. Falling backwards on his back.

All this proved too much for Adam as he screamed out in pure torment and hatred, tears spilling over his face. _Of course the door would be locked_. He had run out of options. Barely able to stand, he layed there and cried, unable to hold back his emotions any longer. He had snapped, screaming out through his broken voice, hoping that maybe he'd find his way around his problems if he screamed loud enough.

After what must have been minutes, but felt like hours to the broken Adam; Footsteps begun to approach. Adam immediately silenced, listening as the got louder. 'Shit shit fuck.' He whispered, now realising his efforts could have alerted anyone within earshot that he had come to and was trying to escape. He crawled on his belly, reaching out and stretching his fingers to drag towards him, a scalpel that had landed on the floor when he fell. The footsteps had stopped, right outside the door.

He picked up the scalpel in time to heave his body to a sit and to look up at a face in the window... a pig-masked face, breathing heavily, looking straight at him through the heavy blackness.

'No...'

The pair stared at each other for what felt like an eternity to poor Adam, who held the medical knife up by his chest, pointing outward. The door handle begun to jitter and shake violently as Pig-face tried the handle.

'No... No! Not again!'

Adam closed his eyes shut tight, so tight he saw blood. He wanted this to be just another mind fuck he invented during his delirious state. The violent sound of the metal door handle shaking in vain as Pig-face tried to open the door. His heart was beating so hard. He was dripping with a cold sweat that made his whole body _shiver_. His hands were now up against his ears to drown out the sound of the reaper knocking at his door.

'Fuck... fuck off! Leave me alone!' He yelled, finally opening his eyes. The noise had stopped, and so had the ghastly face, and been replaced by vanishing footsteps. Heavy footsteps walking away back the way they came. Footsteps that also seemed to walk with a limp.

Adam passed out.

Waking once more to a complete blackness, he would have thought he was still in the bathroom if he didn't know better, feeling the scalpel still in his white-knuckled grasp.

Getting to his feet was a small triumph if he cared to notice, but it all happened too fast to notice as he was up by the door, peering through the vertical rectangular window. Darkness.

Not noticing something before, Adam saw a small black object taped to the side of the door.

_What's this? _Adam wondered, as he pulled the object free of it's bindings.

_A tape-recorder? No. Not again_.

**Authors Notes**: This chapter is fairly long compared to the last two, but deals with a lot more so that would explain it. I also changed style a bit, using _italics_ for thoughts/feelings and emphasis. I also put a bit of a_ Rosemary's Baby _reference in there if you can spot it :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Saw- Alone**

**Disclaimer**- Saw, and all affiliated characters are property of their prospective owners. This is a work of fiction and is written simply for entertainment, not profit.

**Warnings: **This will be updated in each chapter regarding new developments. A bit of gore in this chapter, so... yes, Saw is like that.

**Chapter Four- Hello Adam**

_'Hello Adam._

_I know you remember me._

_I sure remember you._

_And since you are listening to this, you must have come to a direct conclusion._

_Your game is not over. I've decided I may have judged you too harshly after you murdered Zepp. That was... unexpected._

_This is your second chance at redemption._

_But don't worry. Your not the only one playing. You may even see an old playmate.'_

_'As you can see, the door is locked._

_You can find the key in that matress._

_Continue from this room and down the corridor._

_Good luck, Adam... And, Adam..._

_Keep to the shadow.'_

It took Adam nearly a full minute to process this information played on the tape recorder. He remembered the voice alright. He never forgot that damn voice, etched into his memory forever along with several other memories he'd much rather forget. He knew the voice as a psychotic serial killer the media had dubbed 'Jigsaw', who's real name was unknown for the time being.

He may not have any idea who the person was, but Adam knew from experience not to trust it. This was a trap. A 'Game' as he'd call it. One that he'd hoped to never play again. A cold sweat trickled down Adams whole body. He was scared. His eyes wide with a fear he'd known once before. His spine was rigid with anticipation of the pain that would undoubtedly follow Jigsaws twisted game.

_This is a dream... this can't be fucking happening. No, not again_.

However, unfortunately for Adam, this was not a dream; no magical realm of sprites and images of pleasantries. This checked all the boxes of a nightmare. And it was happening now to him, in an all-too-real dimension that could reach and scrape him with long, spindly fingers. It was happening again. And no matter how tight he shut his eyes, this was one nightmare that Adam will not wake screaming from.

_My game is not over..._

This filled his brain. Not over. What else could this sick and demented man throw at him. He had taken a bullet, which, after a quick check, his shoulder was scarred and stitched up where the metal had pierced him so coldly. Not many people could say they managed to survive a gunshot wound. Adam had somehow survived alone for days before being 'rescued' just to take part in yet another game. Oh yes, Adam was pissed off.

The tape recorder hit the wall and was smashed into pieces. This wasn't where he expected to be. He thought he was dead. This... this was much worse.

_Zepp? ...Oh, him._

In his anger, Adam remembered the last time he expressed such rage. Bringing down a porcelain lid down on a mans head. Over and over again. Cracking his skull. Shattering the porcelain. Adam had killed a man. And, strangely gave no second thought regarding this important event until now. He put his hands on the back of his head, a motion similar to a surrender to police.

Surely he would be granted forgiveness in the eyes of the law? He killed, yes. But desperate times do indeed call for desperate measures. Adam had no choice. He saved what was left of Lawrences life. _Why? Adam... he shot you. But you saved him_. Adam quickly sliced the knife into the mattress. Picturing all the hate and working it out of his system as he stabbed and gutted the mattress to find this supposed key to this hospital door.

'Second chance? Who the fuck... do you think you are? Fucking piece of shit psycho!'

Adam didn't worry too much about these so called 'other players', he had to look after himself now. No more heroic scenes of self-sacrifice to save someone who not only shot him but also lied and betrayed and stabbed in the back. He stabbed the mattress, again and again, even as the key came free, he kept stabbing, anger replacing fear, boiling in his blood. He took it all out. Anger about the situation. Murderous intentions regarding his captor. Vengeance regarding traitors. He took it all out until tears shone in his eyes, skin red and flushed.

Poor Adam was on his hands and knees, panting for breath. _I am so not ready for this. _He was tired, and scared, and angry, but he pushed on for his life, unlocking the door and throwing it open.

He was met by darkness. More darkness and more shadows.

It took Adam a moment to realise he was cold, shivering. He had no clothes other than the hospital issued robe he woke up in. This bugged him immensly. He felt naked and vulnerable. Nothing to protect against sharp objects that would most certainly be waiting for him in this crumbling hospital.

He couldn't see a hand in front of his eyes. No windows, no reflections. Adam kept to the side of the wall on his right, coming straight out of the room and feeling his way through complete black. As far as he could tell, this was any ordinary hospital, just old... half destroyed, but still the same deal. He figured that going forward far enough would lead him into something, whether he wanted it to or not.

_A noise? _

The sound came from a door on his right. He wasn't sure what it was, but it sounded like a fan. Reaching the door, he fumbled around, clutching the door knob, he pushed forward. The door wasn't locked so Adam made fast entry into the room. Looking around the room, Adam saw... a light. A flashlight to be exact, with an Ultraviolet filter like the ones used to detect wiped-away substances at crime scenes. It casted an eerie blue light on the wall it was lighting up. The room was just a square shaped store room, simple enough he thought as he picked up the UV Flashlight.

About to turn around, he saw on the door, clothes, hung up on the door hook. _Ohh thank God! _He thought. Hastily yanking the clothes down and stepping into the jeans and white t-shirt. _Still barefoot_. He shrugged, not seeing that as too much of a problem. The door, once the clothes had been removed, revealed a hidden message under the UV filter, written very messily, as if wiped with a fingertip;

_301_

Adam didn't know what this meant, he was never too good at math, so exited to room.

_Three-oh-one... room number... duh._

Appearing as though the message were directions, Adam continued, newly clothed and armed with a way to see where he was going.

_Shit... this place is falling apart._

The walls were practically falling apart before his eyes. He could see why this place would be used for a psycho's mindgames. It was like something out of a horror novel. The hospital so far looked as run-down as the bathroom, only in large-scale form. Wondering this, he began to worry about the size of the building and how exactly to go about finding this room 301. It didn't seem as though this would be easy to navigate, as he already knew it wouldn't.

Adam started down the hallway, keeping to the right as he went. He walked for a while, passed two doors on his way down- both locked as he tried them half-heartedly. He did see, however, that he was on the third floor, seeing room numbers indented above each door. He passed 303 and kept walking, eager to just get the hell out of this place, apprehensive about what may lie beyond.

_'302...30...1... okay.'_

Finding the said room, Adam stopped, seeing that just passed the door to room 301 was a large chain-linkshutter, used to close off the patient rooms after hours, a padlock held it shut close to the floor. Adam tried to force it up, rattling and yanking it but it refused to shift, and flashing the light beyond, he saw a sign leading to the stairs. His face turned grim, he needed to get down those stairs, he assumed the exit would be waiting for him on the ground floor and hence his destination and ultimate goal. But first, room 301. He turned back to the door and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and gripped the door knob, turning it.

The smell hit his nostrils immediately and he turned back to the hallway, gagging violently.

'Ohh... oh god...' He gasped, the smell of rotting flesh worming their way to him like a putrid breeze.

Pulling himself together, Adam turned back and shone the light into the center of the room. A large operating lamp was bright and illuminated the room fully, Adam switched off the UV flashlight and bravely stepped into the room up to an occupied operating table placed center-stage with a white sheet covering the body beneath and made to look important in the middle of the room like some kind of altar with the high powered lamps focused above.

'Oh what the fuck...' Adam grimaced in disgust, unveiling the white cloth from the operating table.

It was a body, face melted off. Unidentifyable. A square of flesh was removed from the corpses stomach area. He squinted his eyes in the bright contrasting light and focused on the stomach. It was hard to see, hard to breathe. But he saw; carved into the flesh around the body, carved rather crudely, with a rough knife, arrow shapes, pointing at the stomach of the skinny male body.

'...Aww come on... no.' Adam turned, throwing up his hands, he didn't want to do this. This was gruseome, he turned back and look at the body, gritting his teeth, he almost threw up again. This was taking too long, he wasn't going to get out if he didn't play along, he knew this from previous experience.

So, peeking through one half-closed eye, Adam put the flashlight down next to the table and proceeded to thrust his bare hand into the corpses sliced-open stomach. His bottom lip quiverred. Sweat matted his dark hair and ran down his face and soaked his chest, sticking the t-shirt to the contours of his body. He hated this. Never will be able to wash the blood stains off his hands. Deeper, he had to thrust deeper, his fingertips brushing something foreign. Plunging deep, he gripped it between his fingers and pulled out, making a sickening squelching sound as his fingers pulled free.

Adam ran, picking up the flashlight and getting back out to the hallway.

Adam let himself drop just outside, sitting next to the door as he sucked in relatively clean air to bite back the taste in the back of his throat. It took him a little while to remember what he was doing. He stood. Just as he looked forward, he saw the caged barricade again in front of him. He almost forgot this dead-end, but was so much happier out than in. Adam unclenched his fist, seeing in his palm; A small padlock key.

_Another key?_

Adam didn't need to ask himself what this was needed for. Kneeling down by the middle of the shutter, he took the small padlock in his slippery fingers and after some initial frustration fumbling and wiping blood on the floor, he managed to unlock the shutter. Finally.

Gripping the bottom of the shutter, he pulled it up and so, opened up the passage to the stairway right before him. He felt a wave of relief, but also a pang of deadly hesitation. He didn't wish to go further, he knew he'd face a hell of a lot more than a dead man. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward.

Just as he did this, a sharp suprising noise of electronic distortion filled his ears.

'Ah! Fuck!' Adam yelled out.

As the white noise quickly died down. Adam looked up to see a television monitor, hooked into the wall next to the door to the staircase. It was an image of some sort of venrilloquist dummy.

_Creepy... _Adam thought and returned his attention to the monitor, which begun to speak to him;

_'Hello again Adam, I assume you've figured it out?_

_The UV light led you to the right room. You dug through the mangled guts of a man you killed and you found the key and made it here._

_But you can leave the light now, it won't be of much use to you now._

_Go through the door in front of you and down one floor._

_But be careful, this hospital is crawling with crack addicts that will do anything to get their next fix... oh, and I've arranged for an old friend to meet you there._

_Good luck._

The monitor goes black and lights turn on through the windows inside the staircase. Shuffling and clanging can be heard on the other side...

Now, Adam was more confused than ever. The killer sounded as though he wanted him to succeed, or at least coax him into going further. A ploy no doubt to fuck with his already messed up head. He did as instructed, and put the light down on the floor next to the door, trusting that he won't need it for whatever he has to face next.

But Adam was horrified and confused. He couldn't shake what Jigsaw said, his words bore into his skull. Until it dawned on him. That the corpse on the table, was the same man he himself had excecuted in the name of freedom in the first game. He needed to sit down.

A memory flashed before his eyes;

Adam was a child again, stood before his mother, degrading him as she always did. He was nervous, but more so antsy. He remembered, she was lecturing him on how what he did was wrong and that he should know that. His father was quiet, unresponsive. Adam saw a flash of a camera in his memory and just as quickly as he saw it, the memory was gone.

_What was all that about?_ Adam thought as he opened the double doors to the stairway...

Authors Notes

: If you notice any obvious spelling/grammatical errors I failed to correct, please let me know. You may notice some errors/plotholes, please don't hesitate to voice these, however the story so far won't change. This was really annoying as a chapter, I tried to fit too much in and end up missing some points, I will try to continue the best I can, despite the hazy direction.


	5. Chapter 5

**Saw- Alone**

**Disclaimer**- Saw, and all affiliated characters are property of their prospective owners. This is a work of fiction and is written simply for entertainment, not profit.

**Warnings: **This will be updated in each chapter regarding new developments. A bit of violence amd language in this chapter, so... yes, Saw is like that.

**Chapter Five- Together**

Adam practically crawled down the stairs, each icy step brought dread in his heart. But he kept going for the sake of his life, which he valued now more than ever in this dire situation. He stayed quiet as a mouse as he decended the well-lit staircase, his bare feet giving him at least one advantage. Noises from the door to the second floor sounded unpleasant to say the least, clattering of metal as things were knocked over ans voices from beyond the door, echoing against the walls. He kept going, cursing his own willpower, which was suprisingly strong at this stage, despite the fact that he could never quit smoking.

As he stood in the hallway to the second floor, he closed the door as quietly as he could behind him, wary of the noises he heard before entering. It was silent now, other than the soft buzz of flourescent lighting, which was a dull yellow colour against the crumbling walls and broken-tiled floors. The lights also flickered on and off, making him feel slightly dizzy as he tried to keep his eyes fixed on the path ahead of him.

He walked passed a couple of open doors on either side which were just dark and empty like most of the building. Adam wasn't sure where to go, he knew he had to find another staircase, and he assumed that, since the stairs he just came down ended at a brick wall, another staircase or fire escape must be present on this floor somewhere at the other end of the building, and so with that assumption, he kept up going in a straight line for now, ignoring the unlit side passages to other wards and rooms.

Up ahead of him was a nurses station, empty obviously. Except a map. _A map could be useful to find some damn stairs. _Thought Adam as he squinted his eyes to read the names highlighted. As he looked, he saw a red circle over the nurses station on the map, with red ink, 'You are here', posted above it. A red line from the nurses station, then led him to the psych ward, just down from the cancer ward. Another red circle marked a place on the map within a room within the pysch ward, which appeared to be padded cells for dangerous patients. _Guess I'm heading to the psych ward huh?... Fucking predictable._

Turning around, out of the nurses station and backing back down the corridor he came in through, he takes a right through a set of open double-doors into the cancer ward, the path he needed to take if he indeed was planning on following the careful directions laid out for him on the map.

This corridor was darker than the last, no lights, but light being let in by moonlight through the gaps in the boarded up windows appeared sufficient to see where he was heading. 'Ow!' Adam gasped out, stepping back, he found a shard of glass had pierced into his foot. He rolled his eyes, seemingly more annoyed than in pain as he pulled the small shard free of his foot, leaving a mark of blood as he put it back down.

'Oh... well, shit.' Adam stopped, not moving another steo forward as his eyes traced the floor of the path before him. It was covered with glass. Not just glass, but a few discarded medical needles, probably not too clean ones at that. The moonlight shone down on the painful path, sending a deceiving beautiful shimmering light, like a deadly carpet of diamonds in the moonlight.

Appearing at first glance that Adam was met with a dead-end, he turned on his heel and begun to head back and find another way around. He stopped dead, looking up, he saw a shadow standing in the doorway. He stood, paralysed as the shadow moved out of the light, his pig-masked eyed glaring directly at Adam, who's own grey eyes went dark along with his own frigid body that refused to move. The Pig-Faced man stepped into the corridor, closing the doors tight behind him. Adam was trapped, with no where to go but forward through a path of glass, or back to meet certain death.

'N-no... j-just s-stay away!' Adam jittered, finally finding his reactions again. 'I-I'm warning you... I'm not much of a fighter, but I can scratch and bite like a bat out of hell!' The masked man seemed unaffected by Adams weak threats and moved forwards, advancing on his shaky position. Adam grabbed a piece of wood from the floor, a plank, the only thing he managed to grasp and was about to throw it at his fearsome nemesis. Stopped for a moment, he saw that Pig-Face was moving slow, as if studying him. Adam took his chance and turned to the glass, throwing the long plank into the middle of the glass packed corridor and wasted to time leaping over to it.

Pig-Face stopped in his tracks, appearing suprised by Adams resourcefulness. Adam had used the plank as a bridge rather than a weapon. _So, you do have brains_. Thought the impressed man, before he shook off his suprise and continued on through the glass in chase of Adam, who was now panicking, finding nothing else to use as a bridge. He heard the crunching of glass under heavy boots close behind and realised it was now or never; he jumped as far as he could, impressing even himself as he cleared the glass bar his heel, which caught a nasty nick from a stuck-up chunk of broken glass.

Adam had little time to rejoice over his display of athleticism, his pursuer had picked up pace and was striding far beyond any normal man should, apart from the odd limp, which suddenly reminded him of someone he had no time to recollect as he ran, darting through a door and another door.

Not looking back until he was sure he was clear of the man, Adam did look back and saw; a trail of blood left behind from his bleeding feet. And in this time he took to look back he found himself in a bad situation. He had run beyond direction and now found himself tumbling over a group of stacked chairs in the waiting room. He caught a chair leg to the ribs and seethed with pain as he held his side, balled up on the floor of the messy waiting room. _Ohh fuck this hurts... _Thought Adam as he was close to screaming.

Hearing approaching heavy footsteps, Adam had little time to nurse a broken rib and shuffled to his knees, glancing around the room. He couldn't run. He had to hide. SO, when he spotted an upturned table in the corner, he moved as fast as he could, hearing the sound of doom following close. He was in pain, but managed to hop across the room, stopping the bloody footprints in their tracks as he crouched and hid behind a table.

Pig-Face turned into the room, quickly stepping over the fallen chairs. He appeared to know this hospital well, too well. But as he looked down, seeing the trail of blood had ceased to lead him to his intended victim, Pig-Face stopped. And looked around, breathing quietly behind the mask as his eyes scanned the room. It was a dead-end room. Adam was here... somewhere.

Adam held his breath, siliencing what may give away his rather weak hiding place. He heard the monster stop. He was in the room. They were in the room together. He had to escape and get back out into the main corridor that led to the psych ward. I need to get around him... Adam realised this without much difficulty, but to carry this task out would prove to be more of a challenge.

Pig-Face moved, turning his body to look back at the door, and then glanced slowly around, finally catching his attention was a vending machine in a corner near the back, directly in front of the cancelled trail. Pig-Face was reluctant to follow the obvious, but he was willing to play this game of cat and mouse with Adam a bit longer should he not find him.

Adam saw, out of the corner of his eye, the man with the mask was directly left of him, slowly walking to a vending machine. He waited for a moment, slowly turning his head so not to catch his attention. Adam saw that indeed the man was looking behind the vending machine. He got lucky and was not about to waste this opportunity. Quickly, down on his belly Adam crawled and made his way under tables and chairs, towards the open door. He didn't look back, even when his pursuer had halted the investigation of the vending machine and turned his attention to the table.

Seeing a smear of blood trail across the floor, Pig-Face growled, looking to the door. Adam made a quick dash hearing this telltale sound, his only chance for survival now that he had been discovered, grabbing a chair and taking it with him, he acted purely on survival instincts, getting the hell out of the waiting area, he felt a heat prick him on the back of his neck as Pig-Faces eyes burned through his back. Adam closed the door, jamming the chair against the handle, blocking the door from being opened from inside.

He wasn't playing games with this monster, he never looked back to see if his plan had worked, he made good with his legs and leapt away down the hall, turning sharply finding his way and continued without hesitation and dashing down into the psych ward. He would soon find whatever he was here to find. He couldn't tell if it was excitement or adrenaline, but he was pumped up now, full of so much life and energy no-one would guess he'd just woken from a coma.

The pysch ward was the stuff bad dreams were made of. The reason why he'd never taken drugs was to avoid experiences like this; one corridor, a dead end with flickering lights, six doors, three on either side. And behind the doors, padded cells... Adam could swear he could still hear the screaming of long-gone mental patients.

'Help me! Please!' A female voice caught his attention. _No, Adam... just ignore it... _

But he couldn't, he advanced further, looking into the middle door on the left. Were his eyes deceiving him? A woman, girl really, no more than twenty years of age, short black hair and green, red-ringed eyes. _An addicts mark, _thought Adam briefly as he saw her, strung up by her wrists in the small padded cell. She was dressed casually, very much like himself.

'Ohh thank-god! You gotta get me out of here! Some psycho in a mask took me... and just, just tied me in this room!' She seemed panicked, but that could be the drugs talking as she struggled and wriggled her scrawny body in her chain bindings. Adam didn't know to trust this girl but he sure as hell wasn't going to leave her. _Hey I'm no Lawrence! _He opened the door with a struggled tug and proceeded to unhook the chains from the meat-hook on the ceiling of the small room. The chains rattled as she fell to her knees, rubbing her wrists.

'Yeah, he chased me in here, but it's okay, I locked him in a room... What's your name?' He asked, speaking somewhat bashfully. She wasn't particularly pretty to Adams eyes, but like a school kid, he still had trouble talking to girls. She needed a good meal, it seemed, she was practically emaciated. She stood and threw her arms around Adams shoulders, showing her knight in shining armour her gratitude.

'I'm Tracey'. She said, unhooking her arms from him to regain composure as she sniffed ans rubbed her her nose. 'So... what, you some kind of squatter? What are ya doing in here?'

Adam didn't answer right away, he was aware that time was something of an issue and it was running out. 'Adam'. He whispered, telling her his name, though she didn't ask for it. He didn't say it, but he was just glad that he wasn't alone for just a second. Well, at least she wasn't stabbing him to look for her next fix. 'Listen Tracey... we need to find a way out of here... how did you get in here?' he asked, hopeful that she could provide the answers that he was looking for.

'Yeah, I do.' She said, proud of herself as she walked over to the last room on the opposite side of the hallway, opening the door and standing there, arms crossed as she waited for Adam to survey this this thing she was so eaget to show him.

Adam approached, slowly, he wasn't about to be tricked into being locked inside a small room like she had. He walked up behind her amd looked over her shoulder. A hole. There was a hole in the bottom of the room, a ladder leading down. _It must lead to the first floor! _Thought Adam happily. This was it, down this ladder and it will all come together. He wasn't going to lead a normal life after all of this, thats for sure. For one thing he'd been missing for probably months. Though he had no-one really to miss him, he sure as hell wasn't about to let that stop him from trying to change things.

Tracey led the way down the ladder into what appeared to go down a floor and then another, into the basement.

'Wait, Tracey this can't be right. Where are we now?' Adam said, as his feet touched ground. He surveyed the area, it looked like some kind of underground passge for sure. Brick walls on either side leading to a set of bars, like prison cell bars. He didn't like this, he was starting to think Traceys shortcut wasn't going to be any less perilous. But Tracey just smiled, a kind of mischievous smile a little girl might offer. She walked forward, strutting her hips as she stopped at the bars, pushing open the creaky door there.

'Quit worrying. I know what I'm doing kid.' She called him 'kid' despite the fact that Adam was visably older than she was. Adam shrugged, remembering he did have boyish good looks, so he decided to take it as a passing compliment. One thing he wasn't expecting to receive in a place like this.

The passage was more like a tunnel, Adam had to even bend slightly to get through the bars. _What kind of hospital would need an underground tunnel?_ He didn't really care to know this answer so kept quiet and followed behind Tracey. Their shadows were wild, casting all around them, large and small. The lighting sources were various empty oil drums set alight. Like the sort the homeless congregate around to keep warm in parks and back alleys. This had Adam wondering if maybe people lived here.

That theory was indeed proven fact as Tracey led them to a T-section in the tunnel network. Two men were stood there by another flaming drum. One warming his hands hunched over, his back to Adam and Tracey. The other was slightly taller and had only one eye it seemed, his arms were crossed over his chest.

'Traceeeey.' The man said, apparently not too happy to see her.

'Garth. This kid here wants out.' She said simply, but with a hurried tone to her voice. The man known as Garth didn't appear to care, or if he did, his gruff, bearded face didn't show it. He was stoney-faced and dressed in dirty clothes. Not just dirty, but greasy, like a mechanics jumpsuit. And that's what he appeared to be wearing. Tracey walked passed him and sat on an old, torn couch that looked like it was dragged in from the streets. She sat slumped back, spreading her legs to an obscene degree.

Adam offered an awkward wave to Garth, who stared coldly in his direction. Adam felt like his was on a runway for all to see, but he had no time for this bullshit, he'd had enough of games.

'Look, do you know how to get back out to the streets because I've had about enough of indoors to last a lifetime.' He said, trying to exude confidence, but all he showed was a desperate attempt to exert dominence. And Garth reacted with a heartless laugh, low and shallow.

'Kids got balls.' Garth stood, like a rock. Cold sweat begun to trickle down Adams neck, he rarely felt this uncomfortable, but this was just one of those days for him. Unlike with Tracey, Adam held an instant dislike of Garth. And it wasn't anything specific he could pinpoint either. But something about the guy just creeped him out. A tense silence ground their eyes to a lock as Garth sized Adam up. 'Alright. I can help you.'

Adam breathed a sigh of relief, and he didn't mean to be so open about his relief, but when things get that tense, it just feels good to be able to let go of the tension. Garth stepped and turned around to look down the corridor behind them, almost identical to the one they had just used. Garth lifted his arm and pointed down the orange-lit tunnel. 'That way?' Adam said, and almost as if on command, started off down the passage, only to be grabbed from behind by his shirt, oily fingers staining white to black.

'Hold on there kid.' He said sternly, releasing Adam who spun around to see what the problem was with Garth, but immediately silenced his tongue realising how much bigger than himself was. 'I'm coming with you.' Adam almost cringed, getting a bad feeling about all of this. But, what choice did he have other than to accept this strangers' help when it was offered? _Very little_, answered Adam.

'I'm coming too.' Traceys voice cut through the thick awkward atmosphere. Garth for a second looked as though he was about to protest this intrusion, but instead shrugged and watched as the girl stood from the couch and strutted up behind Garth, like some model on the walk.

'You coming too John?' Garth asked, turning to the quiet man who still was silent, warming his hands, face still hidden, the man called John didn't answer, simply shook his head and remained mysterious as Garth and Tracey started off down the tunnel without looking back. Adam followed, like some obedient hound as the headed passed another industrial oil drum and through another barred gate. Garth was silent, to which Adam was grateful. Tracey however was appearing increasingly more aggitated, scratching her arms raw.

Adams t-shirt clung to his sweaty back and chest, he was getting really sick of this place, and just when it seemed that they were walking into a neverending tunnel, they reached another ladder, going up through a manhole. _Thank fuck! _Adam thought and quickly moved in front so that he could reach the ladder first. Garth grinned at this shamelessly selfish display and followed up the ladder just after. Adam struggled with the manhole cover, but he did so, using his desperation to his advantage and forced it open with a rusty clang as it hit concrete on the surface.

Adams eyes met with only more disappointment as he saw that this was most definately not the quick escape route that he had hoped. But then again, he half expected something to bring him down just when he experienced an emotion that was halfway close to good. He stood now, after climbing out of the tunnel; a factory.

A huge, abandoned factory. As dead as the hospital.

Turning to look back at the manhole, Garth and Tracey had emerged behind him, sliding the cover back in place. _No going back._ Thought Adam as he looked back to the manhole. Tracey took the lead and with Adam following went through the maze of broken machines and empty shelves and made their way over to the shutters that acted as an entrance to trucks delivering their load. Adam tried pulling it open, and to his relief begun to open. Slowly but a little more and he'd be able to crawl under it.

'Do I get my stuff now?' He heard Tracey mumble to Garth. Adam paid no heed to this conversation and found himself on his belly trying to squeeze through the small gap. He saw Garth's boots next to his face, he froze, looking up at the towering man who offered a knowing grin. Suddenly, Adam felt his stomach drop, as the shutter was dropped down on his back, pinning him to the ground, he yelped out in a brief shock of pain.

'W-what the hell are you doing?' Adam gasped, trying to wriggle free of the heavy iron shutter. But it was being held by the man above him who didn't answer his question. Tracey seemed nervous, Adam watched her pacing back and forth, she didn't seem at all concerned that Garth had trapped Adam.

'Alright Garth, I brought you the kid like you asked... now give me my stuff!' Her demands were cut short as she should herself with a palm to the face pushing her back against the shutter which she slid down. Adam saw, from her back pocket she was removing a small knife. 'Bastard!' She didn't act on her impulse as Adam would have done, just sat there, knife hidden behind her back.

'Shut up.' His voice boomed and silenced her dreaded shrieks. He didn't even shout, but his voice was loud enough to silence even the strongest of wills. 'When Gordon gets here, not until then.' He said, smirking, flashing a small plastic bag of white powder that was quickly hidden again withing his jumpsuit pocket. Adam was grunting and yelling, fury in his eyes as he tried his hand at escaping once again. 'Knock it off or I'll crush you.' He said, which shut Adam up.

His mind was racing, he had been tricked. Of course he didn't trust Garth but this wasn't a betrayal he was used to.

'Nothing personal Adam... this is a trade off, nothing more.' Said Garth, stepping on Adams fingers as he grunted in pain. 'Once Gordon gets you, I get my money... that's all this is.' There was that name again. Adam knew it but hoped to god in heaven that it was a different man._ It couldn't be_!

Finally Adam had begun to piece together the identity of the Pig-Faced man that had chased him through the hospital. But he didn't want to believe that this man whom he used to know briefly, could be this same emotionless puppet he had seen before. He was worried. What was Lawrence really after and what was his role in this game?

There was quiet now. Utter silence. Limping footsteps on metal was heard. Adam couldn't see a thing but knew that from the sound, Gordon was up on the catwalks, stalking his prey at an advantage. Heavy breathing came from above as the footsteps stopped. Wriggling with urgency Adam managed to get his head back through into the factory, and strained his neck with discomfort to look up. He could only see the bottom of the catwalks, but saw the red coloured robes through the metal grating.

Something appeared wrong. Pig-Face wasn't moving, he was just stood still, watching and looking, breathing hard as if in conflict.

Just then, surprising everyone, Tracey was up on her knees, stabbing deep in to Garths leg, cutting the greasy material of his jumpsuit and staining it with blood. The sharp pain had Garth step away from the door, releasing it back under Adams control.

'Adam run!' Screamed Tracey as he pushed her back against the shutters with her hard push. Adam didn't need to be told twice, but could not roll out into freedom, his head was stuck inside and he had to roll back inside the factory floor to avoid being crushed by the falling shutter. Adam looked up making eye contact with Pig-Face who just stared right back. Adam was fleet as could be and took off escaping Garth and ran fast down between broken conveyor lines. He turned, remembering Tracey, and watched on helpless as Garth struck Tracey down with one hefty blow of his forearm.

Garth didn't give chase and after remembering Adam had no where to run, proceeded to turn on Tracey, who stumbled backwards, and begun to crawl backwards. Her attempted escape was halted however as a heavy boot broke her jaw, sending teeth scattering across and through the metal grating. She was gasping and crying for what little her life was worth. He gripped a fistful of her hair and growled in her face before smashing her skull open on the wall behind her. He dropped her lifeless body where it lay and worked out a crick in his neck before continuing the chase on Adam.

Adam had nowhere to go, narrowly avoiding a dead-end into the wall of the factory, he was forced by default to head up on the catwalks. He ran on, eyes facing forward. Pig-Face was gone from where he stood, so Adam ran on, hearing Garth closing in and starting up the steps to the catwalk. Adam knocked over a pile of boxes, hoping to slow the bullish man down. But it was no use. It took Adam far too long.

Garth was fast, faster than Adam as he charged on and rammed him over on to his back, the metal grating sharp and cutting through Adams t-shirt his eyes flashed, witnessing victory in the eyes of the man looking down at him. For a moment, just a moment, life flashed before his eyes. A memory he thought he'd forgotten;

'I didn't mean to steal it mom.' Adam said sheepishly, a boy as he stood in his parents kitchen. His mother just shook her head and sighed, clearly at odds with what to do with her out of control son. Suddenlt his father turned around, fire in his eyes, he hit Adam to the ground, picking up the item that young Adam had stolen; a small poloroid camera, and threw it against a wall.

'You piece of shit, do you think you don't deserve this?'

Suddenly his memory flashed to an end, and it was Garths voice he was hearing replacing his fathers exact words as he raised a brutish fist to finish Adam off.

Pig-Face dealt a blow from behind, a pipe cracked Garth behind the head, and as Garth turned to face him, hit him again across the jaw. Garth went down with a thud, falling next to Adam.

Lawrence was unmasked. His cold eyes shone bright and warm with tears.

'Lawrence?' Adam cocked his head, he genuinely did not see this coming. He cautiously stood to his feet, backing away from the clearly unbalanced Lawrence Gordon.

Just then, Lawrence's eyes snapped up and Adam was met with a fierce gaze, forcing him to react with panic, as if talking to an angry stray dog, he raised his hands showing he wasn't armed and moved to a crouch, making himself look smaller and like less of a risk.. 'W-wait! Y-you don't have to do this! Please...' Adam, on the verge of begging for mercy stopped. _No_. 'Oh just fucking kill me already!'

He heard the pipe Lawrence used, hit the metal grating, and although Lawrence halted and was visably shaking, he still advanced on Adam, slowly and moving unsurely as his gloved fingers fixed around Adams throat. His grip tightened and as like a rubber band snapping, he saw himself in the reflection on Adams surrendering eyes. 'Oh...God.' His eyes reflected utter horror and disgust, he released his grip, letting himself fall back and sit, face buried in his hands. 'What have I become?'

Adam stood, several seconds after Lawrence seemed to have snapped out of his split-personality rampage. He really had no idea what just happened, he thought for sure that the blonde man would have wasted no time in killing him, like he did in the bathroom, gun poised to fire.

'Law-Lawrence?' Adam, gasped, unable to bite back the tears in his throat, he started to cry. Slowly moving towards his broken friend. Adam wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. This was Lawrence, free from the verge of insanity. Looking at Adam, Lawrence saw nothing but the poor scared man he had tried to save. One look made him relive what they went through together. And although he is clearly not sane, it was just enough. Just enough to remember himself and the man he used to be. The man, Lawrence, who was once scared, like Adam... is back. 'Lawrence?' He heard Adams pleading voice again but was so distraught and confused and scared from his mental breakdown, he could do nothing but shake his head, unsure of what to say or do.

But Adam could go no further as Garth, who was unconscious rose like a demon from the earth and tightened his fingers around Adams throat, hellbent with fire in his eyes to finish what Lawrence could not. Adam yelled out for help but his vocal cords were gripped tight and his screams emerged as a choked breath. He pressed Adam against the railings of the catwalk, snarling like a mad dog.

All went black, Lawrence was back but found himself watching helpless like a child, he cried, wanting so badly to return the favour to the man that once saved his life. He didn't know what to do, Lawrence was no longer Gordon, he couldn't fight even if he wanted to, but he did stand, pressing his palms to his temples. 'Oh... God, Adam!' He whimpered and reached for the pipe, realising what he must do. Up until now, Lawrence had never actually committed murder while under John Kramer AKA Jigsaws wing, but he was no longer willing to play by the rules. If he was going to kill someone today it sure as hell would not be Adam again.

Lawrence picked up the pipe, hobbling on his false leg, and raised the pipe ready to strike.

A shot rang out through the abandoned building. A gunshot, loud and echoeing. Lawrence looked around, confused, lowering the weapon in his hand, and then looking back to the scene of attempted murder before them;

Adams face was splattered with blood, though not his own. Garth had been shot from behind, and as the death-grip on Adam loosened, Lawrence rushed forth and wrapped his arms around Adams waist who almost fell from the unconsciousness bestowed upon him by Garths intent to kill.

'Adam...' He whispered, as he held him against his body keeping him upright while Adams head rested on his shoulder. He was out cold, but breathing. Now Lawrence and Adam were alive and relatively unharmed.

It was time to leave. But first, another issue stood in their path;

John Kramer AKA Jigsaw was standing there, a smoking pistol in his hand. He was dressed like a homeless man, Lawrence noted.

'Hello Lawrence.' He said in his rough, gravely voice. Lawrences blood ran cold, he didn't answer, just held Adam tighter against him like a protecting a loved one.

'I'm through with games... Leave us alone.' Lawrence snarled, and made a move like he was going to move forward to try to get passed Jigsaw, but didn't.

'Adams game is over.' John said after a daring pause. 'Tell him this when he regains consciousnes; Life is worth what you make of it..' Jigsaw pocketed the gun and turned, his cold eyes never leaving Lawrences until his back was against the two men. And he begun walking, down the steps of the catwalk. Just as he did, the shutters begun to open, a piercing bright light of the early morning begun to creep in and wash away the sin of night. 'Tell yourself that as well.' Added John finalled as he exited the building.

Lawrence watched, making sure he was gone. Adam begun to stir against his shoulder. 'Go fuck yourself.' He muttered, somewhere in and out of consciousness. Lawrence smiled, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

'Yeah...' Lawrence breathed warm breath down Adams neck and he came to realise; It was over.

Though the end of Jigsaws torment, the games were clearly only just beginning for Lawrence and Adam. And now, bound together for life, they'd have to see it through, together. Clearly lots of expensive therapy sessions would be needed, but that, to Lawrence was the least of their worries. They had their lives back now. And as Lawrence helped his friend through the shutters and in to the sunlight, he saw not the past, but the future, in a whole new brighter light, devoid of shadow. And they'd no longer live it as they had done so before. They'd never again be alone.

**Authors Notes**: I wasn't expecting to finish this so soon but time was running short on my chance to finish this story for maybe forever, so rushed through it, sorry but it had to be done ;)


	6. Authors Final Notes

**Saw- Alone**

**Chapter Six- Authors Final Notes**

_Thank-you if you made it this far!_

_I haven't written anything in years and that can be shown through the chapters of this rather short story. I changed writing styles randomly throughout, for this I'm sorry. It was hard to write something at such short notice but I took the chance and wrote a whole story in about a week. So give me some credit. I did literally vomit during the last chapter, I was feeling terribly ill but pushed through the pain and headaches and finished this bitch and although It's full of faults and massive writing errors, I'm still just so happy to have completed it._

_The narrative came from my own idea and discontentment at how the film series progressed and compromised with a sort of alternate ending situation as many other stories do. It's a fairly basic story but most of the challenge came from trying to pad it out and make it unnessecarily longer. _

_If I could write it again, I would definately stick to writing in one style because it sure as hell looks messy like it is, and I'd probably proof-read too, but I was just so tired by the point of completion of this rather rushed story that I couldn't bear to look at it. :)_

_But I'm glad I finished writing it, even if it is pretty messy and hard to read, full of plotholes etc. But it was worth it and if you enjoyed it that would be a bonus, and even if you didn't that's fine too._

_I also remain a firm fan of Saw Fanfiction and light up with glee seeing an updated story. So I'd like to shout out to all the Saw fanfiction writers and readers out there for inspiring me to at least attempt to join their ranks. Thanks!_


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